


The Wrong Kind of Magic

by Burningchaos



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Amnesia, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-02
Updated: 2010-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-08 15:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burningchaos/pseuds/Burningchaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your basic amnesiac pwp</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wrong Kind of Magic

  
The room was cool and dark, the floor hard beneath his aching body as he struggled to sit. A glance around the room revealed he was alone. He groaned, grabbed the table next to him and pulled himself to his feet only to come face to face, so to speak, with a human skull; a human skull with glowing eyes.

"Harry. You're alive. Amazing!"

He looked around to see who Harry was and who was speaking.

"Harry? What's the matter?" The skull was talking to him. He staggered back and saw the pull chain for a staircase. He yanked it down and scrambled up the ladder with the skull still calling for someone named Harry.

"Wait, Harry, come back." The voice followed him and he realized that he was Harry.  
Huh, he didn't feel like a Harry. But than again, what did a Harry feel like because he wasn't sure he would know. Harry looked around the room, saw the flickering candles, the fireplace and wondered if he were in the middle of the woods. Either that or he was really poor.

A wave of dizziness struck him as he moved toward the door and he swayed violently to the right. Harry reached out to steady himself when an extremely large cat decided to wind its body around his legs. He grabbed the couch and caught himself, before he landed on the hard cement floor.

Sitting down, the cat moved with him, rubbing and purring affectionately, bumping its head against his hand. "Hello cat." Its head butted against his chin. "Do I know you?" He felt weird talking to the animal, but it was better than talking to the skull in the basement.

The front door opened and Harry tensed up, his body felt whipcord tight and ready for something…he didn't quite know what but something in him was building. A tension and energy that felt as natural as breathing. A large dog bounded through the door followed by what he was sure was an angel. His body relaxed instantly as he saw them and if their reactions were anything to go by they knew exactly who he was.

"Done for the night already?" The angel spoke.

Harry just nodded, as the dog came over to lick his hand. The cat looked at the dog with what Harry assumed was disgust and stalked off, digging its claws into his legs ever so slightly as if to let him know how displease it was with the situation.

He looked up to find the angel taking off his jacket and head into what appeared to be a bedroom. Huh. He stood carefully and followed. The room was tiny, the bed took up most of the space and there were clothes lying on the floor.

"So my clients were asking about my boyfriend again today. I think you should put in an appearance to keep them happy." Harry looked toward the bathroom. His boyfriend. He didn't feel gay. But than again he hadn't known his name until the talking skull had told him it.  
He walked the short distance to the bathroom and leaned against the door frame. The other man was washing his hands. Harry took a moment to study his boyfriend's long lean frame, the play of muscles under his thin shirt and the delicious way the shirt clung to him. Suddenly Harry felt like he was a very, very lucky man. He looked up and grey eyes staring at him through the mirror.

His boyfriend cocked his head, and turned to face him with a questioning expression. "Harry, is something the matter?"

He shook his head and stepped closer. Before he could second guess himself he pressed himself against him, pushing them both backwards against the sink and mirror.

"Harry, this is not a good idea." His boyfriend's voice was low, husky and trembling. He didn't know why this was a bad idea but he didn't care. From the moment he had touched the other man his body felt as if it had been immersed in fire.

"This is a wonderful idea." He leaned in and nipped at his boyfriend's lower lips, "A brilliant idea." As he spoke a name floated across his mind, he knew his lover's name. "Thomas."

"Empty Night, Harry, you don't want to do this." Thomas's lips moved against his as he spoke. Hands dug into his arms, and Harry could already feel the bruises forming.

He ran his hand down Thomas' stomach and ran his fingers underneath the waist of his jeans.

"Yes I do."

Thomas growled and shoved him backwards, kissing him brutally as he did. The edge of the bed slammed into the back of his knees and he fell backwards with Thomas landing on top of him. Swift fingers divested him of his clothing, lips and teeth followed them placing a kiss here or a bite there. An inferno raged inside, every touch drove him further over the edge and with a small part of his mind Harry wondered how he lived with this all consuming passion every day, or how he could have ever forgotten it.

"Harry," Thomas groaned and bit his neck, biting down just hard enough to have him arching off the bed. "I've wanted this. I've wanted you…" His fingers scraped over Harry's chest, down his sides and pulled their hips closer together. Harry grabbed Thomas' hair, pulled his head up and kissed him again.

Thomas bit his lip, just hard enough to be painful and pulled away to look down at him. "Mine." A wave of something alien washed over him pushed into him and took control. Thomas growled and he thrust against him.

"Yours." Harry could barely force the word past his lips. His mind, even though it was drugged with lust seemed to be rebelling against the concept of ownership but as Thomas said it again, it felt more and more like his own skin. "Yours." When the word slipped past his lips this time it was truth, and with that truth everything came flooding back. His throat tightened and the horror of what he was doing stole the air from his lungs but he couldn't stop himself. Not with his brother's hand wrapped around his dick jerking him off as if he were born to do just that.

"Thomas," He choked on his brother's name as he spilled over that talented hand and felt his brother jerk against him. He could feel the wet heat semen on his thighs and stomach, it felt dirty and yet at the same time he felt more complete than he ever had.

Thomas leaned in, his breath heavy and hot against his ear and whispered, "I'm sorry." Harry didn't say anything; he didn't move he just lay there for a moment before running his hand over Thomas' hair.

"I'm not." Or at least he wasn't yet, but he knew he would be. Someday.


End file.
